The first of the “firsts”.
Easter has never really been my holiday. I gave up religion years ago and I gave up this holiday in exchange for Thanksgiving in my divorce negotiations. So, while today is a holiday, it’s not one that I associated with any real traditions but it is the first one that I’ve flown solo. Maybe it’s a gift to have a gentle introduction into all of the social media happy family posts be of pastel colors and jelly beans and that by the time we reach turkeys and trees I’ll be settled into this new routine. I think in this whole transition I’m also coming to terms with the fact that I’ve never truly been on my own. I met my first husband at 18, married him at 20, had kids at 22 and 23, divorced at 33, had primary custody of the kids as a single mom, remarried at 38, widowed at 46. And, while I wouldn’t change a thing about the path that led to my children, I think that the challenges I’m facing right now might be easier to navigate if I’d spent more than a minute (and part of every other wee